The Drunken Truth
by hxchick
Summary: What happens when Emily picks up a drunken Hotch from a bar? The truth comes out! Two shot.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is owned by CBS. I own nothing but my imagination.

The Drunken Truth-Chapter 1

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Dave groaned as he heard his cell phone ring on the nightstand table. He recognized the ringtone as that of his unit chief's and groaned again. Of all of the times for the goddamn phone to ring. He blindly reached out an arm to grab it when the woman sharing his bed stopped him.

"Let it ring honey, what could be more important than this?" She asked as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"Sharon baby, I have to answer it, it's my boss," Dave said regretfully.

"Fine then, have it your way!" Sharon shot back with a pout on her lips. She jumped off of the king sized bed and flounced into his bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Picking up the phone, Dave growled, "I swear to Christ Hotch, fucking World War Three had better be starting for you to be calling right now!"

"Dave?" He heard Hotch yell, and he pulled the phone away from his ear. "Dave, are you there?"

"Yeah I'm here, asshole. Where the hell are you?" There was a loud din in the background and while Dave could hear his loud friend, the background noise was making it difficult to understand him.

"I'm at the Ivory Bar, man, and I can't drive," Hotch yelled.

Dave heard the slurring in his friend's speech and moaned. The one night Sharon was in town and Hotch had to get drunk! What the fuck was he supposed to do? God knows the man had picked his inebriated ass up many times, but this was _Sharon_ for Christ's sake; he was pretty much guaranteed to see some action with her tonight.

"Can't you get a cab Hotch? Fuck, I'll even pay for it, just send me the bill." He could hear the woman filling up the Jacuzzi in his bathroom and he very much wanted to be a part of whatever she had planned.

On the other end of the phone, Hotch shook his head, forgetting the older man couldn't see him. "Can't, there's a concert or something going on nearby and the cabs are all going there. Come pick me up man," he directed.

'Fuck!' Rossi thought, and then another thought popped into his head, 'I'll have one of the kids do it…but which one?' He mentally ran down the members of the team and then came across one who owed him a favor. "Hang tight Hotch, someone will be there in less than an hour."

"Okay," Hotch yelled, taking another gulp of his drink, "I'm here with some of my old law school classmates. Look for us in the back corner."

"Back corner, got it." Dave repeated and then ended the call. Once the call was disconnected, he pressed the number three in his speed dial and waited for his team member to answer.

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Emily was curled up on the couch in her apartment, getting caught up with some of her DVR'd television shows. She had just begun watching an episode of _Glee_ when her cell phone rang. Seeing Dave's name on the Caller ID, she quickly answered it. "What's up Dave? Tell me we don't have a case."

"We don't," he told her. "What are you doing tonight Emily?"

"Well, since its eleven o'clock on a Saturday night, I'm in my pajamas watching TV and eating ice cream. Why?"

"How would you like to do me a favor? Say as repayment for my partnering with Reid on this last case?" Their last case had been in Kansas, and while on their way to question a suspect, Emily and Reid had been driving through a storm and had seen a tornado off in the distance. You would have thought Reid had just met Superman, Spiderman and Mickey Mouse all at the same time, he was so excited. When they got back to the police station, he regaled everyone with the story and he wouldn't shut up about it, especially with her since she'd been in the car with him. It got to the point where Emily had begged Dave to switch partners with her, as the older man was the only member of the team who could seem to shut Reid up.

"What kind of favor?" She asked suspiciously.

"The kind where you go and pick up a drunken Hotch from a bar and see him home safely," Dave told her. He heard Sharon get into the Jacuzzi and he tried to hurry the call up. "Come on Prentiss, it won't be so bad."

"Dave, I'm in my PJ's and I've already washed my face. I look like shit!"

"Hotch won't mind, and neither will his law school buddies."

Emily groaned, that's just what she needed tonight, to have to wade into a sea of attorneys. "Dave-" She began, but Rossi cut her off.

"Look Prentiss, I have a friend in town from Paris and I get to see her once or twice a year. Right now that lovely lady is sitting alone in my Jacuzzi and I would like to join her and salvage what's left of my weekend. If you do this for me, I will owe you BIG time. Like, if you ever need a kidney, I donate, no questions asked." Dave was practically begging by this point.

On her end of the phone, Emily put her head in her hand. The absolute _last_ thing she needed was the image of David Rossi getting it on with some Parisian woman who was probably half his age. "Fine," she said with a sigh, "But you'll owe me more than a kidney for doing this."

Dave felt a grin break across his face as he gave her the pickup information. Once he was done, he quickly thanked her, disconnected the call and practically ran to the master bathroom.

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Twenty minutes later, Emily pulled up in front of the Ivory Bar. She couldn't find any parking nearby, so she parked in front of a fire hydrant and threw her FBI placard on the dashboard. She would only be gone for ten minutes, so she hoped a blaze wouldn't start while she was inside the establishment.

Once inside, she let her eyes adjust to the dim atmosphere and then scouted out the bar area. Sure enough, in the back corner was a group of guys that definitely looked lawyerly. Expensive suits, slicked back hair and, most importantly, many empty beer bottles and drink glasses were scattered around them.

Sighing once again, Emily headed for the back corner of the bar. Once there, she was shocked to see her boss drunk as a skunk.

"Em'ly!" He slurred as he saw her. "What're you doing here?" Emily could tell by his appearance that he'd been having a good time. His sport coat was barely hanging onto the back of a chair, his tie stuffed into the pocket of it, and the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. That, paired with his mussed hair, told her that he'd had a good time with his law school buddies; buddies who appeared to be just as drunk as he was.

"Who's this, Aaron?" One of his friends asked, leering at Emily.

"That's Pretnis-Presstin-Pre…you know what? Her name is Emily," Hotch told him, unable to pronounce her last name. Even in his drunken state, Hotch didn't appreciate the way his friend was sizing up his agent.

"She should join us," the friend said, moving closer to Emily. "I'll bet she could show us a good time."

As drunk as he was, Hotch wasn't going to let his friend harass Emily. Stepping in front of him, Hotch snarled, "Back off Chad, she's mine!"

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_A/N 2: This is going to be a two-parter. Look for the second half in the next day or so._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is owned by CBS. I own nothing but my imagination.

The Drunken Truth-Chapter 2

**~This has gone from a two parter to a three parter. Look for the conclusion sometime tomorrow.**

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Ten minutes later, as they were driving to Hotch's apartment, Emily was having a hard time staying on the road…she was laughing too hard to see straight. It turned out that Hotch was a chatty drunk and he was keeping Emily entertained with his stories. So far, she'd learned that four year old Aaron Hotchner used to like to ride his family's big St. Bernard dog like a horse when he played cowboy with his neighborhood friend. He'd told her that thirteen year old Aaron had to get prescription facial cleanser because his acne was so bad. He'd regaled her with tales of how he'd caught Dave and Erin Strauss going at it in the supply closet back in the old days, and how they hadn't stopped when he'd come in to get a box of pencils, they'd just moved over so he could get the supplies that he needed. He'd described his deep seeded fear of dolls coming to life and he let her know that he'd been terrified the few times he'd had to go to Garcia's apartment…he was just sure that all of her stuffed animals were going to mount a revolt against him. Finally, as they were walking to the entrance of his apartment building, he'd told her that it scared him how smart Reid was and he firmly believed the genius could read minds. That last revelation had her bent over laughing as he fumbled in his pocket for his keys.

Wearing a goofy grin, Hotch finally found his keys in his pocket He tried four times to get the key into the lock before Emily finally grabbed it out of his hands.

"Here," she said exasperatedly, most of her earlier humor leaving her body. She was exhausted from their latest case and all she wanted to do was go back to the nest on her couch. She also wanted to know why he had pushed himself between her and his friend and had proclaimed her to be his. She wasn't his, not even close…at best they had a good working relationship and friendship, so why did he care that his friend was being an ass to her? Not that she was _opposed_ to being his, although her feminist mind recoiled at the idea of being considered to be _any_ man's, but she couldn't deny that she was attracted to her boss. Hell, not attracted per se, but totally and completely turned on by him! God, every time he sat next to her in the jet, all she wanted to do was jump into his lap and take him right there. Thankfully she'd never acted on her impulses…she could imagine her teammate's reactions if she ever did_._

She pushed the door to the apartment open and let him in. She watched as he tossed his keys onto the table next to the door and then stumbled over and flopped down on the sofa. She joined him for a minute, just to make sure he was okay.

"Hotch, where's Jack tonight?" She asked, looking around the room as if she expected the little boy to pop out of a corner.

Hotch cracked his left eye open, "At his grandparents for the week," he slurred. "Hope he's having-" Suddenly both of Hotch's eyes opened wide, he clamped his hands over his mouth and bolted for the bathroom. A minute later, the sounds of retching filled the apartment.

After a few minutes the bathroom was silent and Emily was starting to worry. 'Damn,' she thought, 'I'd better go check on him.' She got up, cursing both Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi as she moved down the hallway.

She got to the bathroom door and heard heavy breathing on the other side of it. "Hotch," she said, as she knocked on the door, "You okay?"

She heard a pathetic "Uh huh," come from the other side of the door. Taking a deep breath, as she hated seeing _anyone_ vomiting, she opened the door and saw her boss sitting on the floor in front of the toilet.

"Need some help?" She asked as she filled a paper cup with water and handed it to him. She sat down so her back was against the wall and she was facing him. "Can't hold your liquor like you did in law school?" She said, with a crooked smile.

Hotch shook his head, which was a mistake as the motion made his stomach leap into his throat and once again and he retched into the toilet.

As much as she hated hearing people puke, Emily wasn't an insensitive monster, and she scooted over and rubbed his back while he lost his dinner. His vomiting finally subsided and he sat back down on the floor, gasping for breath. Once again handing him his water, Emily also resumed her position on the floor. After a minute of silence, she was just about to get up when she heard him say, "God you're gorgeous."

Emily blushed, she knew she had some nice features, but she didn't think of herself as gorgeous. "I'm really not Hotch, it's the liquor talking."

He shook his head and thankfully it didn't set off another round of vomiting. "No, I mean it. Even now, with no makeup and your hair back in a messy ponytail, you're breathtaking. How are you not married by now?"

Shaking her head to clear it, she told him, "Between my hours at work and the fact that I am a self-confident, gun carrying woman instead of a princess that needs to be taken care of, I guess I just turn guys off."

"Not me," he slurred. "Your self-confidence is sexy and I swear to God, every time you draw your weapon, I have to fight the urge to jump you right then and there. If I ever got a chance to be with you, I would _never _let you get away because of the long hours you work."

Emily wondered if her face could get any redder than it already was. Thank God Hotch wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, because she was sure the straight-laced man would die from embarrassment. "It's the liquor talking Hotch," she repeated.

"No it's not, I've wanted you since your first week on the team," he mumbled as he began to fall asleep.

"No! No you don't! You can't fall asleep here, I can't lift you up!" The sharpness of her voice woke him from his stupor and, with her help, Hotch slowly got to his feet. She helped him stumble to his bedroom where he collapsed facedown onto his bed. Emily covered him up, placed the garbage can next to his head and then pulled the door closed behind her. She knew she had to stay there for the night, she couldn't leave him alone in his condition, so she quickly used his bathroom and made her way to the living room.

Once there, she sat down hard on his sofa, her mind going a hundred miles an hour. He'd wanted her since her fist week on the team? If he ever got a chance to be with her? Did this mean…Emily could hardly think straight. Was it possible that her boss, the man she'd been lusting after for the past year, was secretly in love with her too, or was it really just the alcohol talking? As she lay down on the couch, she tried to calm her muddled mind down, but she couldn't. As she drifted off to sleep, she knew she would find out tomorrow whether he meant what he'd said in the bathroom. Her last conscious thought was 'please let him have meant it!'


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is owned by CBS. I own nothing but my imagination.

The Drunken Truth-Chapter 3

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The next morning Hotch awoke to the feeling of jackhammers inside of his head. He wondered what in the hell was going on in his skull when he remembered the copious amount of alcohol he'd imbibed the previous night…and the throwing up…and the prattling on to Emily. As he remembered the last piece, he sat bolt upright in bed and instantly regretted it, as it sent the pain severity in his head from a seven to a twelve. Clamping his hand to his forehead, he begged his stomach contents to remain in place and luckily they did. He lay back down, slower this time and flashed back on what he'd said to Emily. Did he really reveal his secret feelings for her? Did he really tell her he'd wanted her since her first week on the team? He felt his face turn hot with embarrassment and he wondered how he would face her at work the next day.

As soon as that thought hit his head, he heard clanging noises coming from his kitchen and groaned. Apparently his day of reckoning had been moved up and he was going to have to face her this morning. Great, he thought as he slowly pushed himself out of bed. He quietly opened his bedroom door, walked the three steps to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After taking care of business, he brushed his teeth since it tasted like something had died in his mouth, and he popped the recommended dose of Ibuprofen to help with his head before he stepped back out into the hallway. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the kitchen, knowing he had to face the music.

Emily had heard Hotch begin to stir and decided to make breakfast for both of them. Finding eggs, spinach, green peppers and ham in his refrigerator, she decided to make them both omelets. As she heard him go into the bathroom, her head began to spin with the various thoughts running through it. What would he say about the previous night? Would he pretend nothing happened? Would he try to deny everything, blaming it on the excessive amount of liquor he'd drunk? Would he ravish her right there on the kitchen table? Hearing the bathroom door open again, she knew she would soon find out.

"Morning," he said sheepishly as he walked into his kitchen. Even though his stomach was still somewhat queasy, it smelled great in the room and he felt his appetite roar with a vengence. He looked at the counter and saw two omelets sitting on plates with sides of fruit salads next to each of them. Huh. He didn't know he'd had anything edible in his fridge.

"Is one of those for me?" He asked, trying to avoid talking about the previous night.

Emily nodded and handed him one of the plates, along with a large glass of water, and then grabbed the other one for herself. They both sat down at the small kitchen table and began to eat. About ten minutes into the meal, Hotch finally spoke up.

"Did I really make that much of an ass of myself last night, or did I just dream it?" He asked her, clearly embarrassed.

So he was going to blame everything on the alcohol, Emily thought sadly. "Forget about it Hotch, I'll treat the bathroom like Vegas. Whatever is said in the bathroom, stays in the bathroom."

Hotch was about to gratefully thank her, when he took a moment to really look at her. She _was _gorgeous, he hadn't been lying about that, but it was more than that. She was compassionate and understanding, but she could also stand up to some of the most wizened law enforcement officers he had ever met. She was soft and feminine while off duty, but she was a tough, ass-kicking FBI agent when she was on the clock. She was great with Reid when he needed a gentle touch, but she knew when to tell Derek to take his head out of his ass. She was a giant, walking, talking enigma and he really wanted to get to know her better…hell, he wanted to get to know her _intimately. _But did she feel the same way about him? Taking a deep breath, he decided to lay all of his cards on the table.

"I don't want to forget it Emily," he said, and she brought her eyes up to his.

"I don't want to forget it," he repeated. "I meant every word I said last night. You _are_ gorgeous and I _have_ wanted you since your first week on the team. I've always felt this way, the alcohol just helped to loosen my tongue."

Emily was shocked; she never in a million years had expected this from him. Yeah, she'd _hoped,_ but she had never really allowed herself to believe he felt the same way about her.

Hotch took her silence as a sign of uncertainty, so he plowed ahead. "And if I'm not mistaken, you have some feelings for me." Please let me be right, he begged the fates above. Just cut me this one little break. Emily still said nothing and Hotch began to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Or have I been reading the tea leaves wrong and do I now need to put in for a transfer to Alaska?"

Emily finally shook her head, "No, you're right, I've had feelings for you for awhile," she admitted.

Hotch let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Why haven't you ever said anything?" He asked her.

"For a lot of reasons, first and foremost, our team. Our being involved with each other could adversely affect the team. What if they don't like it, or worse, what if only one or two of them don't approve of it? It could change the entire team dynamic."

Hotch snorted, "I doubt our team would have a problem with it. JJ has been practically shoving me towards asking you out and Dave…well Dave's Dave."

"What does that mean?" Emily asked, still surprised over JJ's heavy handed matchmaking.

He turned red and looked at the table. "A couple of weeks ago, Dave and I were out for drinks when he suddenly asked me when I last 'cleaned my pipes,' and I don't think he was talking about the plumbing in my apartment."

Emily practically choked on her coffee, "No he didn't!" She said, trying to hold back her laughter.

Hotch nodded, "Yes he did. Then he practically offered to buy me a hooker for the night, saying that, and I'm quoting, 'maybe if I got laid, I would chill the fuck out'."

By this time Emily wasn't even trying to hide her amusement anymore. She was laughing so hard that she was honestly afraid she would wet herself. After a minute or two, she calmed down enough to resume her discussion with Hotch.

"Yeah, but what about Strauss and the fraternization regs?" Emily asked, as she got up and cleared the plates away. She wasn't sure why she was listing all of the barriers to a possible relationship with him. She knew she wanted it. She wanted it badly, but she couldn't allow herself to think that it might actually happen.

He shook his head as he stood up to help her. "I checked and there's nothing officially banning a relationship between two agents, it's just heavily frowned upon."

"But what will people think?" She asked and saw Hotch open his mouth to argue, but she pressed on. "Don't tell me that it doesn't matter what people think, because it's different for women. People will see us together and they'll think 'good for Hotch, he finally found somebody.' But when they see me, they'll assume I'm sleeping my way to the top."

Hotch sighed, "Is it a risk? Yes, of course it is, and you have more to lose than I do. But will it be worth it? I think it will be...I think it will be _more_ than worth it. What do you think?" He held his breath as he watched Emily deliberate in her mind. Finally, she looked up from the sink and nodded at him.

"I agree, I think it's worth it." Her face broke into a smile as she said this and Hotch visibly relaxed.

They both stared at each other awkwardly for a minute, before Hotch finally took her into his arms. "Now that we're together, can I finally kiss you without worrying that you'll break my nose?"

She smiled at him, "Why don't you try it and find out?"

It turned out he had nothing to worry about.

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The next day, Emily strode into Rossi's office without knocking.

The older agent looked up from his desk and when he saw who it was, his stomach sank. He assumed she was coming into his office to read him the riot act for guilting her into picking Hotch up the other night. That's why he was so surprised when she wordlessly set a bottle of Talisker scotch on his desk.

"Emily, what the hell is this for?" He asked.

"Thanks," she said and didn't say anything else, since she knew her relationship with Aaron would soon be revealed to the rest of the team. She just gave him a look and walked out, leaving the legendary profile to stew in his curiosity. Besides, she had more important things to do during her downtime, like mentally picking out the dress she would wear on her date with Aaron that night.

_**The End**_


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